Drizzts New Beginning redo
by Shraikor
Summary: redone read inside for details


So guess what? I went to the library this week and what do I find? The very book that I'm basing this story off of! So I checked in out and read it. After reading it I decided to revise my first chapter and add a little (not so little) back story on what I consider relevant to this fic. I've left most of it alone barely adding or dropping anything. Oh I did, just not too much.

Disclaimer- I do not own anything or anyone in this story except OCs which, though mine, will probably be heavily based off of existing characters in this series or others. I do not own anything!

"Have you found the trail?" Drizzt whispered, moving up next to the great panther. He gave Guenhwyvar a pat on the side and knew from the slackness of the cat's muscles that no danger was nearby.

"Gone, then," Drizzt said staring off into the emptiness of the corridor in front of them. "Wicked gnomes, my brother called them when we found the tracks by the pool. Wicked and stupid." He sheathed his scimitar and knelt beside the panther, his arm comfortably draped across Guenhwyvar's back. "They're smart enough to elude our patrol."

The cat looked up as if it had understood his every word, and Drizzt rubbed a hand roughly over Guenhwyvar's, his finest friends, head. Drizzt remembered clearly his elation on the day, a tenday before, when Dinin had announced- to Masoj Hun'net's outrage- that Guenhwyvar would be deployed at the patrol's point position beside Drizzt.

"The cat is mine!" Masoj had reminded Dinin.

"You are mine!" Dinin, the patrol leader, had replied ending any further debate. Whenever the figurine's magic permitted, Masoj summoned Guenhwyvar from the Astral Plane and bid the cat to run up in front, bringing Drizzt an added degree of safety and a valued companion.

Drizzt knew from the unfamiliar heat patterns on the wall that they had gone the limit of their patrol route. He had purposely put a lot of ground, more than was advised, between himself and the rest of the patrol. Drizzt had great confidence that he and Guenhwyvar could take care of themselves, and with the others far behind he could relax and enjoy the wait. The minutes Drizzt spent in solitude gave him the time he needed in his endless effort to sort through his confused emotions. Guenhwyvar, seemingly nonjudgmental and always approving, offered Drizzt the perfect audience for his audible contemplations.

"I begin to wonder the worth of it all," Drizzt whispered to the cat. "I do not doubt the value of these patrols-this tenday alone, we have defeated a dozen monsters that might have brought great harm to the city- but to what end?"

He looked deeply into the panther's saucer eyes and found sympathy there and Drizzt knew that Guenhwyvar somehow understood his dilemma.

"Perhaps I still do not know who I am," Drizzt mused, "or who my people are. Every time I find a clue to the truth, it leads me down a path that I dare not continue upon, to conclusions that I cannot accept."

"You are a drow," came a reply from behind him. Drizzt turned abruptly to see Dinin a few feet away, a look of grave concern on his face.

"The gnomes have fled beyond our reach," Drizzt said, trying to deflect his brothers concerns.

"Have you not learned what it means to be a drow?" Dinin asked. "Have you not come to understand the course of our history and the promise of our future?"

"I know of our history as it was taught at the academy," Drizzt replied. "They were the first lessons we received. Of our future, and more so of the place we now reside, though, I do not understand."

"You know of our enemies," Dinin prompted.

"Countless enemies," replied Drizzt with a heavy sigh. "They fill the holes of the Underdark, always waiting for us to let down our guard. We will not, and our enemies will fall to our power."

"Ah, but our true enemies do not reside in the lightless caverns of our world," said Dinin with a sly smile. "Theirs is a world strange and evil." Drizzt knew who Dinin was referring to, but he suspected that his brother was hiding something.

"The faeries," whispered Drizzt, and the word prompted a jumble of emotions within him. All of his life, he had been told of his evil cousins, of how they had forced the drow into the bowels of the world. Busily engaged in the duties of his everyday life, Drizzt did not think of them as often, but whenever they came to mind, he used their name as a litany against everything he hated in his life. If Drizzt could somehow blame the surface elves- as every other drow seemed to blame them- for the injustices of the drow society, he could find hope for the future of his people. Rationally, Drizzt had to dismiss the stirring legends of the elven war as another of the endless stream of lies, but in his heart and his hopes, Drizzt clung desperately to those words. On the other hand he would like to know, just to rest in knowing the truth, for once.

He looked back to Dinin. "The faeries," he said again, "whatever they may be."

Dinin chuckled at his brothers relentless sarcasm; it had become so commonplace. "They are as you have learned," he reassured Drizzt. "Without worth and vile beyond your imagination, he tormenters of our people, who banished us in eons past; who forced-"

"I know the tales," Drizzt interrupted, alarmed at the increasing volume of his brothers voice. Drizzt glanced over his shoulder. "If the patrol is ended, let us meet the others closer to the city. This place is too dangerous for such discussions." He rose to his feet and started back, Guenhwyvar at his side.

"Not as dangerous as the place I will son lead you," Dinin replied with the same sly smile.

Drizzt stopped and looked at him curiously.

"I suppose you should know," Dinin teased. "We were selected because we are the finest of the patrol groups, and you have certainly played an important role in attaining that honor."

"Chosen for what?"

"In a fortnight, we will leave Menzoberranzan," explained Dinin. "Our trail will take us many days and many miles from the city.

"How long?" Drizzt asked, suddenly very curious.

"Two tendays, maybe three," replied Dinin, "but well worth the time. We shall be the ones, my young brother, who enact a measure of revenge upon our most hated foes, who strike a glorious blow for the Spider Queen!"

Drizzt thought that he understood, but the notion was too outrageous for him to be certain.

"The elves!" Dinin beamed. "We have been chosen for a surface raid!"

Drizzt was not as openly excited as his brother, unsure of the implications of such a mission. At last he would get to view the surface elves and face the truth of his heart and hopes. Something more real to Drizzt, the disappointment he had know for so many years, tempered his elation, reminded him that while the truth of the elves might bring an excuse to the dark world of his kin, it might instead take away something even more important. He was unsure how to feel.

"The surface," Alton mused. "My sister went there once- on a raid. A most marvelous experience, so she said!" He looked at Masoj, not knowing how to figure the forlorn expression on the young Hun'net's face. "Now your patrol makes the journey. I envy you."

"I am not going," Masoj declared.

"Why?" Alton gasped. This is a rare opportunity indeed. Menzoberranzan- to the anger of Lolth, I am certain- has not staged a surface raid in over two decades. It may be twenty more years before the next, and by then you will no longer be among the patrols."

Masoj looked out the small window of Alton's room in the House Hun'ett, surveying the compound.

"Besides," Alton continued quietly, "up there so far from prying eyes you might find the chance to dispose of two Do'Urden's. why would you not go?"

"Have you forgotten a ruling that you played a part in!"

Masoj asked, whirling on Alton accusingly. "Two decades ago, the masters of Sorcere decided that no wizards are to travel anywhere near the surface!"

"Of course," Alton replied remembering the meeting. Sorcere seemed so distant to him now, though he had been within the Hun'ett house only a few tendays. "We concluded that drow magic may work differently-unexpectedly- under the open sky,"he explained. "On that raid twenty years ago—"

"I know the story," Masoj growled, and he finished the sentence for Alton. "A wizard's fireball expanded beyond its normal dimensions, killing several drow. Dangerous side effects, you masters called it, though I've a belief that the wizard conveniently disposed of some enemies under the guise of an accident!"

"That was long ago," he said, trying to offer some hope. "Have you no recourse?"

"None, things move so slow in Menzoberranzan; I doubt the masters have even begun their investigation into the matter."

"Pity, it would have been a perfect opportunity."

"No more of that!" Masoj scolded. "Matron SiNafay has not given me her command to kill Drizzt Do'Urden or his brother. You have already been warned to keep your personal desires to yourself. When the Matron bids me to strike, I will not fail her. Opportunities can be created."

"You speak as if you already know how Drizzt will die."

A smile spread over Masoj's face as he reached into the pocket of his robe and produced an onyx figurine, his unthinking magical slave, which Drizzt had foolishly placed his trust in. "Oh I do," he replied, giving the figurine a light toss then catching and holding out on display.

"I do."

The members of the chosen raiding party quickly came to realize that this would be no ordinary mission. They did not go out on patrol for the next tenday. Rather, they remained day and night, sequestered within a barrack of Melee-Magthere. Through nearly every waking hour, the raiders huddled around an oval table in a conference room, hearing out the detailed plans of their pending adventure, and, over and over again, Master Hatch'net, the master of Lore spinning his tales of the vile elves.

Drizzt listened intently to the stories, willing himself to fall into Hatch'net's hypnotinc web. The tales had to be true; he did not know if he would be able to hold onto his principles if they weren't.

Dinin presided over the raids tactical preparations, displaying maps of the long tunnels the group would travel, grilling them over and over until they had the route memorized perfectly.

To this, as well, the eager raiders-except for Drizzt- listened intently, all the while fighting to keep their excitement from bursting out in a wild cheer. As the tenday neared its end Drizzt took note that one member of the patrol was not in attendance. At first Drizzt reasoned that Masoj was learning his duties in the raid at Sorcere. With the departure time fast approaching and the battle plans clearly taking shape though he began to understand that the young wizard would not be joining them.

"Where is our wizard?" Drizzt dared ask near the end of one session.

Dinin not appreciating the interruption, glared at his younger brother. "Masoj will not be joining us," he answered, knowing that the others might now share Drizzt's concern, a distraction they could ill afford at such a critical time.

"Sorcere has decreed that no wizards may travel to the surface." Master Hatch'net explained. Masoj Hun'ett will await your return. It is a great loss to you indeed as he has proven himself time and again. Fear not though, a cleric of Arach-Tinilith shall accompany you."

"What of…" Drizzt began above the approving whispers of the raiders.

Dinin cut through his brothers thought short, easily guessing the question. "The cat belongs to Masoj," he said flatly. "The cat stays behind."

"I could talk to Masoj," Drizzt pleaded.

Dinins stern glance answered that question without words. "Our tactics will be different on the surface," he said to the group, silencing their whispers. "The surface is a world of distance, not the blind enclosures of bending tunnels. Once our enemies are spotted, our task will be to surround them, to close off all the distances." He looked straight at his young brother. "There will be no need for a point guard, and in such a fight a spirited cat could well prove more trouble than aid."

Drizzt had to be satisfied with the answer. Arguing would not help, even if he could get Masoj to agree to let him take the panther- which in his heart he knew he could not. He shook the brooding desires out of his head and forced himself to hear his brother's words. This was to be the greatest cha challenge of his young life and the biggest danger… his biggest regret.

Over the final two days, as the battle plan became ingrained into every thought, Drizzt found himself growing more and more agitated. Nervous energy kept his palms moist with sweat, and his eyes darted about, too alert.

Despite his disappointment about Guenhwyvar, Drizzt could not deny the excitement that bubbled within him. This was the adventure he had always wanted, the answer to his questions about the truth of his people. Up there in the vast strangeness of that foreign world, lurked the surface elves, the unseen nightmare that had become the common enemy, and thus the common bond, of all drow. Drizzt would discover the glory of battle, exacting proper revenge upon his peoples most hated foes. Always before Drizzt had fought out of necessity, in training gyms or against the stupid monsters hat ventured too close to his home.

Drizzt knew that this encounter would be different, this time his thrusts and cuts would be carried by the strength of deeper emotions, guided by the honor of his people and their common courage and resolve to strike back against their oppressors. He had to believe that. He had to!

Drizzt lay back on his cot the night before the departure and brought his scimitars through some slow motion maneuvers above him.

"This time," he whispered aloud to the blades while marveling at their intricate dance even at such a slow speed. "This time you will ring out in the song of justice!"

He placed the scimitars down at the side of his cot and rolled over to find some sleep. "This time," he said again, teeth clenched and eyes shining with determination.

Were his proclamations his belief or his hope? Drizzt had dismissed the question the first time it had entered his thoughts, having no more time for such thoughts than he did for brooding. He no longer considered the possibility of disappointment; it had no place in the heart of a drow warrior.

To Dinin, though, studying Drizzt curiously from the shadows of the doorway, it sounded as if his younger brother was trying to convince himself of the truth of his own words.


End file.
